The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom

Then Covington, striding with the outraged dignity of a man who has seldom encountered anyone with sufficient temerity to stand up and encounter his wrath, barged down the aisle of the courtroom, while his assistant started in with the long line of preliminary proof.

Knowing that the witness who had found the body was one of Drake’s men, realizing that he would, if given the opportunity, slant his testimony so that it would be as advantageous as possible to Mason’s side of the case, the deputy district attorney handled the man with gloves.

He merely asked him if he had found, on the date in question, an automobile parked by the side of the road, had had occasion to investigate the car, and whether he had found in it the body of a woman. He brought out that the witness had found a revolver on the ground by the car and had notified the police and subsequently had seen the body at the time of the coroner’s inquest and that it was the same body.

Abruptly Jarvis tossed the ball to Perry Mason.

“You may cross-examine,” he said.

“No questions,” Mason said.

Jarvis was visibly surprised. He had expected Mason would try to lay the foundation for his defense through this witness.

The next witness was the chief of police of Oceanside.

With this man Jarvis was much more relaxed, much more at home. The police officer testified to having been summoned to the scene, to having notified the coroner and sheriff of San Diego, of having “looked the ground over” and later on, of having attended the inquest where the identity of the murdered woman was established.

Feeling his way cautiously, Jarvis sought to qualify the man as an expert in studying tracks in connection with crime. Then, awaiting Mason’s objection, the deputy showed what he could about the position of the automobile, the tracks which had been found on the ground.

Hamlin Covington returned to the courtroom, making his entrance as impressive as possible. He sat down beside his chief trial deputy, listened for a few moments, then leaned over and whispered to Jarvis, “Go ahead. Ask him what the tracks showed. Let’s put Mason in the position of objecting, of trying to keep out the evidence. Smoke him out. Get him on the defensive.”

Jarvis whispered, “We haven’t qualified him as much of an expert. Mason will rip him to pieces. He’ll take him on voir dire and rip him to pieces.”

“Let him try,” Covington said. “At least we’ll start him objecting. We’ll get him where lie has to take the case seriously.”

“All right,” Jarvis whispered, “here goes.” He rose to his feet, said to the chief of police, “Now, Chief, just what did these tracks show in regard to two cars having been parked parallel to each other?” Then Jarvis half turned to Mason, waiting for the indignant objections. Mason might not have heard the question.

“Well, it seems this car where the body was found,” the chief said, “had been parked right next to another car that had been left there, and...”

“Just a minute,” Judge Minden said. “I’d like to have that last question read again, Mr. Reporter.”

The court reporter read the question.

Judge Minden glanced expectantly at Mason.

Mason remained silent.

“Go ahead, answer the question,” Covington rasped at the witness.

“Well, it was this way,” the witness said. “The car that the body was found in had been driven right up next to another car that had been left parked there. You could see where the car that had the body had been inched around until it was in just the right position, and then the murderer just stepped across into the other car, dragged the body of the victim over behind the steering wheel and drove away. That’s the way it was done.”

“Cross-examine,” Jarvis said triumphantly.

“Let’s see if I get this,” Mason said, his manner showing that he was merely interested, but indicating a wish to see that the jury understood the situation. “You did some tracking there, Chief?”

“I did.”

“Now, you say that the car which had the body in it had been ‘inched’ into position.”

“That’s right. I have to explain something of the nature of that ground. It’s a sort of sand and decomposed granite that packs hard as concrete. You can sort of make out tracks but not tire patterns, at least not plain enough to do much with them.

“You could see where the front wheels of Ethel Garvin’s car had wobbled around a little bit as the driver tried to get the car in just exactly the position he wanted. He’d even backed once in order to slide it right up next to another set of tracks that had been made by a car that had been left standing there.”

“Yes, yes,” Mason said, his manner showing breathless interest. “Now you say that other car had been left standing there.”

“That’s right.”